


Mr. Lucky Se7en

by andiebeaword



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Cuddling, Drunk Shenanigans, Established Minor Character Death, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love Confessions, Masturbation, Mentions of Sex, Mutual Pining, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Use of Gags and Restraints, angsty feels, cursing, oral sex (female receiving)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28086309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andiebeaword/pseuds/andiebeaword
Summary: Reader was always told her soulmate would be the seventh guy she dates. So far, she's dated five guys (of them, two were exes). She meets a new guy who she's smitten with. Problem is, she wants him to be lucky number seven. So, she gets her favorite customer from the coffee shop she works at to pretend to date her, going to her sister's wedding.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	1. You're My Favorite Customer!

**Author's Note:**

> I have been wanting to write this after rewatching the movie 'Lucky 7,' as well as my favorite scene from 'Runaway Bride.' And I also wanted a one-shot that was both equal parts awkward and fluffy as well as hot and smutty.

\-------♥--------

Day two-hundred and thirty three of my post-breakup with Richard, and I am still oversleeping from wallowing in chocolate-covered strawberries while my TV plays cheesy rom-coms on repeat from my playlist. I reach over lazily to slap the snooze button on my alarm clock, already knowing Cheryl is going to warn me for the third time this month that I 'need to get my life together,' and that 'no man should ever be worth those tears.' It's also times like this where I wish my mom was still here for me to talk to.

Losing my favorite person in the world at just nine years old was ... different. Mom always had a way to make things seem better, like if I complained even once about a stupid gray cloud ruining my day, she would somehow manage to, with just words, make a gray cloud become a rainbow. I miss that.

Today, though, I vowed would be a splendid day. Even in the face of horrorish reminders that I may end up forever single, I plan to execute my horrific nightmares by making sure I don't miss my absolute favorite customer -- like, ever. So, basically, I throw my covers off my sluggish body, dragging it in record time to my closet to toss out my uniform before grabbing the quickest shower on earth; all while managing to down my favorite cup of pumpkin spice coffee in my stylish to-go cup while speeding down main street.

I rushed through the back doors that read 'Employees Only' while throwing my stuff in my locker for the day. I hadn't even punched my timecard in yet when Cheryl eyes me then back over to her right in her best 'side-eye' motion, indicating that he was there. I nodded like a stupid person, grabbing my apron as I scurried over to the register.

"Late again? You almost missed me this time, Y/N." I shot the man in front of me a look only he knew would kill him where he stood, if I could only possess such an ability.

"Well, Spencer, we all can't be geniuses with such prestigious girlfriends flaunting over us like we walk on air, okay?" I was thankful he would see right through my sarcasm shield. Probably the only person in this whole universe to just 'get me' since my mom died, and the sad part is, I have only ever seen him when he stops for his sugar fix.

"Y/N, why didn't you tell me you kicked Dick to the curb?" Seriously, a man after my own heart. This here is what I love about Dr. Spencer Reid. He was empathetic to those around him to an almost unbearable fault, his job as a suave FBI agent practically groomed him to be my best friend, it seems. Truth be told, I only wished I had had the nerve to break up with my ex first, but Spencer, he knew just how to make me feel better.

"Damn straight, and don't worry about me, Reid. Heart of steel, remember?" He chuckled at my comment, knowing exactly what I meant by it.

"I wish I could stay, but I'm required to use my brain today, I'll see you same time tomorrow?"

"You know it!" Spencer winked at me, taking his large grande cup with 4/5ths sugar and a splash of cream out the door with him.

I continued to work my way through the rest of my line until the morning rush was over and my first break of the day was here. "Oh, honey, when are you ever going to ask that man out?" Cheryl was never one to refrain from the obvious.

"Cheryl, c'mon, Spencer? Pssh, I don't know. I haven't even met poor unfortunate soul number six yet." She just gives me her signature shake of her head, whistling down the small hall back to the register. I took out my worn box of Marlboro 27s, lighting one up as I think back to the day when my mother first painted the picture I now have stuck in my head when it comes to 'true love.'

-

"Y/N, sweetie, c'mere, I want to show you something," Mom said, coughing more blood drops into her fifth tissue of the day. I didn't understand much of how the cancer spread through her bones, but I knew time with her was fleeting, and anytime she asked for me, I couldn't say no. I never wanted to.

"What is it, Mom?" She was laid out on the couch, easing herself up with one of my paintings I had done from school in front of her on the coffee table. I watched her admire it, the small glimmer in her eyes that was slowly dying along with her, telling me she didn't have much more time left with us. She turned it over, taking a pencil and tracing over her right hand, drawing a line from it to the other side, horizontally.

"Give me your left hand, sweetheart," she pleaded, and I held it up, unsure of what it was she wanted with it. "Place it down right here," she pointed to the end of her line. I placed my hand as flat on the construction paper as possible while Mom drew around it the same as she had with her own hand. "Now, honey, right now you're nine years old, but soon, you'll start finding boys in your class ... um, rather attractive, and I want you have a guideline of sorts, if you will." I remember giving my mother a very confused look, conveying to her just how much of what she said didn't completely register with me.

I watched her map out seven lines, marking each one as such with her pencil . "Now, Y/N, please do not marry the first boy who tells you, "I love you." I guarantee that it will only end in tragedy or divorce." I nodded, still not grasping her meaning yet at this time, though I will when I hit puberty. "I want you to date around a little, but, I advise you ... get to know your partners before you start labeling them -- like this, okay?"

-

Once I was older, even though it was years after she had passed, I came to learn that Mom meant 'do not count my partners as number one, or two, etc. until I've at least slept with them once.' "Sometimes, once is all it will take to tell you they're not Lucky Number Seven." And there it is. Lucky Number Seven. He was the man Mom explained to me I would have an instant connection with, someone who would just know when to lead and when to follow with me without ever having to feel the need to compromise. I knew it was wishful thinking, and a fairytale of sorts to dream in, but ... here I am currently now on the lookout for Poor Man Number Six.

My best friend, Tory, was in town to visit her mom, meaning she was also in town to drag me out to social scenes in hopes of getting me even just one step closer to finding Mr. Lucky Seven. Once I managed to find the bowling alley which was located conveniently behind a larger building, I felt better after hugging the crap out of my bestest friend in the entire universe.

"My god, I've fucking missed you!" I practically screamed into her hair as I squeezed her shorter body to death, happy to catch up. It'd been almost two years since I've seen her in the flesh.

"Yeah, yeah, girly, I have missed you too, but onto more important business." That was the thing I loved about Tory. She knew just what was more important, especially when it came to me. "We are not here to bowl, Miss 200, we are here to find you mystery man who will become lucky number six." I plopped down on one of the chairs, swapping my chucks for my personal bowling shoes. Without realizing it, I began scanning around the alley, taking note of just how many guys were here, and that most of them appeared to be single. "Like I said, we need to find you one more boy before you land your man, now who catches your eye, Y/N?"

My eyes found themselves landing on one guy, in particular. He was the epitome of the standard 'bad boy,' solely based on his attire he was wearing. Easily reminded me of one of my high school boyfriends, Travis. That boy had a way with sweet-talking me into doing just about anything and everything under the sun if it meant he'd fuck me no matter the time nor place. My face must have given me away easily, because Tory was quick to jog over to where the guy was with some friends. I watched, half in horror, half feeling anxious, as Tory made her way back over to me, a smirk teasing her smile as she sat down next to me.

"His name is Sid, and ... oh my god, Y/N, you have to hear his fucking accent!" Great. Now, all I did want to do was go stalk this magnificent looking man just to hear the way his voice sounded in my ears. Tory playfully slapped me on the arm, motioning with her hands to coax me to where she was just at. "Y/N, you are smoking hot, okay? Remember, he's only 'poor sap number six.' So, if you fuck him and he's not your soulmate, no big deal." I scoffed. Leave it to Tory to make me feel better about making a ridiculous fool out of myself. Here goes nothing.

I felt my heart thwomp hard in my chest as I tentatively approached 'Sid' and his friends. Suddenly, I felt anxious and gut-recchingly sick. Before I could quickly turn back around and tell Tory it was a false hope, I felt a hot hand touch my shoulder. "'Ello love. Can I help you with something?" My god, I wanted to die right there. Tory was right; this man's voice was like fucking heaven. I coughed a little, hoping that little moan that escaped my throat wasn't heard by ears other than my own.

"Hi--yeah, I'm ... my friend said your name was Sid?" Fuck, I sound so dumb right now. I bashfully tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, purposely looking up at him with my signature puppy face. I watched as he chuckled, softly, wordlessly letting his friends know they can start their game without him.

"Yeah, your friend there, she's uhh, she's quite unique," Sid said, looking just as nervous now as I felt. I didn't understand it. He's drop dead gorgeous, could have any girl he wanted and he was nervous in front of me? And after only meeting me? "And you are ...?" Shit. Guess Tory purposely didn't bother giving my name to the god of a man before me. I stammered it out, thinking that he'd learn sooner than later I was a walking disaster.

"Oh, I -- uhh, it's um, it's Y/N." I moved to hug him, while he held out one of his hands for a handshake. Needless to say, we collided and not in the best way possible. When I felt his hands grasp my sides, a feeling came over me; one I wasn't sure was a good thing or a bad thing. Thankfully, Sid had the same idea.

"Y/N, right? What do you say we ditch our friends and get to know each other a little better? C'mon, I'll buy." I stupidly gigged while nodding my head, following him over to the lounge on the other side of the bowling alley. As we were walking, I looked back to see if Tory was still looking to bowl. Yeah, no. There she was, twirling a strand of her hair while making bedroom eyes at, presumably, one of Sid's friends. I shook my head as I took my seat next to Sid.

We ended up talking for three straight hours. Five Smirnoff's in, and I was feeling it. Normally, I'd order a burger and fries to offset the alcohol in my system, but the kitchen had closed an hour earlier. I learned that Sid works at a gym not far from here, loves dogs, is only eight years older than me, and claims the reason why he's still single is because he travels often and doesn't think he's met the right person worth changing that for.

After my third beer, I felt Sid's hand gently touch my thigh. I was grateful to be wearing jeans, though I swear my skin burned as fingertips tapped a path from my knee upward. I had to keep reminding myself that this wasn't my soulmate. He couldn't be. But, everytime Sid would speak, I could just hear how passionate he was, how funny he is when he laughs. Oh, the way he laughs. I kicked myself once I realized how late it had gotten.

"Have a shot with me, won't you, love?" Well, when you phrase it like that ... yes, please.

"Uh--ye--Yeah, one shot."

Having absolutely no clue what liquor it was, I picked up my glass, clinked it with Sid's and down the hatch, it went. My god, it burned so fucking bad. It tasted fruity with a sour kick to it. My body immediately felt like it had only just caught up to the past five beers I've had all night. I was about to excuse myself to the ladies' room when Tory appeared out of nowhere with a guy on her arm. "Y/N!! There you are! Listen, so I'm going back to ..." She turned her gaze to the man next to her, putting on her best pout. "I'm sorry, babe. What was your name, again?"

"Josh."

"Right, Josh," Tory continued. "Anyways, I'm going to crash at his place, but I came to see if you needed a ride home first. Y/N?" I began feeling slightly out of it. I completely blamed the alcohol. Before I could muster up a drunken response, Sid was quick to answer for me.

"Oh, it's alright. Y/N was just going to come back with me to my pad, right, love?" I definitely blame the way my entire body reacted to the pet name 'love' for what came out of my mouth next.

"Yeessss, seeee? I got a riiiiddee." Inside my own head, I sounded perfectly fine. Tory looked like she was toeing the same line between drunk and 'blackout' drunk. I felt a little confused when Sid began leading me to his car, but I went with it, feeling as if I was asleep, about to have the sexiest wet dream of my life. I barely remember the walk up to his apartment, let alone when he sucked on the nape of my neck while sneaking his hand down my pants.

-

The excruciating pain I felt when my eyes slowly fluttered opened, was something I couldn't explain. I felt like I had vomited at some point, my tongue felt weird and distasteful. Out of habit, I felt around for my phone, only to be met with something that was definitely not my phone. Flashes of the night before invade my head, causing me to frantically pull off the covers to try and get a better idea of what happened. I let out a small sigh of relief when I discovered that I still had my bra, panties, and an overly large shirt that didn't belong to me.

"Morning, love," a gravely sexy voice whispered as I felt a pair of lips kiss a spot just below my ear, while a hand snaked its way around my waist, pulling me closer. My memory was slowly piecing itself together. Sid. Bar. Shots. His place. .... "Nothing happened, babe. As much as I was hoping it would, you -- you, um, called me Spencer? Anyway, I figured it was best if I just helped you out and let you sleep it off." I felt a hand touch my forehead. "You feeling alright? I think it's safe to say you're what they call a 'light-weight.'"

I scoffed at him, secretly grateful that we hadn't wound up sleeping together. Especially when I was clearly out of it. Before I realized it, the words were already spilling out of my mouth. "Thank you, Sid. I--I'm glad you took care of me." He just gazed down at me with the sexiest smile I believe I've ever seen.

"Of course, love. My mother raised me to be a respectful gentleman, despite what my outward attire screams these days." I laughed. The overwhelming aroma of cinnamon and maple syrup began calling my name.

"Do I--" I started, making an over-the-top motion to sniff through my nose. "Do I smell breakfast?" Sid chuckled, leaning in for a kiss. I decided to tease him a little. Unfortunately, that just also happened to be the moment where my brain caught up to what my ears had no doubt heard earlier. Spencer. Shit! "You know, on second thought, can I use your bathroom? Oh, and do you have a spare toothbrush I could use?" I knew I was rambling, but I needed to breath after understanding just what abruptly stopped him last night ... among other obvious reasons.

"No worries, love. It's just through there," Sid said, gesturing vaguely towards a door in his room. "Spare toothbrushes are in the second drawer." I smiled shyly, well aware I was about to walk a good ten feet in just my undergarments. As I let my feet touch the cold, hardwood floor, I swear I could just feel the way Sid had to of been ogling me. He let out a high-then low-whistle, his voice now deeper than it had been just seconds earlier. "Gotta say love, I do enjoy watching her cute ass walk away." I opted not to dare a glance back, shuffling my feet into the bathroom, locking it behind me. I let out a long sigh. What the fuck am I doing? was one thought. But, he's fucking hot and he actually seems like a decent guy... came another.

I found the toothbrush right where he said it would be .. among others. I shook my head, finding the toothpaste in now time, though as I was brushing my teeth, the fact that Sid told me I called him by my favorite customer's name sent chills down my spine. For the life of me, I couldn't decipher if they were the good kind or the bad.

I have always liked Spencer. I have never been told what he last name is, but I once heard him mumble something about 'headquarters,' which made me think of the FBI home base right here in Quantico. He told me he was smart, and that when he blinks, it was as if his brain was taking snapshots and keeping them in a safe only he can unlock with his mind. I would then comment to him regarding the copious amounts of sugar he pours into his coffee cup every morning. Some days, he comes in late, just before closing, and orders enough to feed a class full of college students. I couldn't help but have a crush on him. I have wanted to, for many years now, to be able to run my fingers through his perfect locks.

Unfortunately, when we first met, it was only my third day on the job, and I was only on boyfriend number four. I was twenty-three and naive. Now, I'm thirty-one and my once surmountable crush on Spencer has morphed into a profound idealistic longing. I find myself wondering why we only ever see each other when he orders his coffee. Why haven't I asked him for his number before? Why did he never ask me for mine? Even as friends ...

knock, knock

Shit. "Hey, you doing okay in there, love? It's a little after eleven now, if you still want waffles." Fuck. I was supposed to meet up with Tory for brunch by now. I moved to walk out, noticing that Sid was standing by the door, a sneaky smile playing on his very kissable lips.

"I wish I could stay, god, it smells delicious, but uhh, my friend, you know, from last night, I'm supposed to meet her like five minutes ago." I plucked my clothes from his floor, redressing myself as my eyes scanned for my phone.

"Oh, here, love," I watched as Sid moved toward his nightstand, disconnecting what I now know to be my phone from his charger. I glanced down at it. Sure enough, I had three missed calls and one voicemail from Tory. Great.

"Thanks, uhh, all things considered, I had fun with you, Sid." I suddenly felt bashful, even though I was now completely dressed with the knowledge that we didn't hook up last night.

"I did too, love, you know ... I wouldn't mind having your number." My number. My mind raced back to just minutes earlier when I thought back to why I've never exchanged numbers with Spencer. I shook my head slightly, hoping to rid my brain of these thoughts before they take over... for better or worse, I still couldn't decide.

"Yeah, um, here let me write it down." I grabbed a pen off his counter, jotting down the ten digits needed for him to call me later. Did I want him to call me later? I didn't dwell on the thought for too long though, mostly because Sid was now directly in front of me, his breath warm on my face. I almost wanted to cancel on Tory.

"Sure you don't want to say, love? I'll make it worth your while." I felt him carefully nip at my earlobe, and I swear it took everything in me not to drop my purse and stay in him arms forever. Right then, my phone began ringing. "Raincheck on the waffles then?" I nodded, sheepishly, giving him a kiss on the cheek, knowing if I kissed him just once more on the lips, I would miss my brunch date for sure.

I answered just before it went to voicemail.

Tory📲: Y/N! Where are you?! We said 11:00 a.m. I've been here since a quarter after. I heard her gasp, quickly deducing that she must've remembered. No way! You need to spill all about Sid when you get here!

Me📲: I will, but I need to stop by home and change.

Tory📲: I'll wait. I'd rather not see your walk of shame anyway since I had my own this morning.

I laughed at that. But, I knew all too well that this brunch was still meant to help me out. Not gush over her one night stands.

Me📲: See you in fifteen.

-

I managed to make it to Sunlight Kitchen with only two minutes to spare. Tory had grabbed us a table outside, eggs and pancakes already sitting there just waiting for us to eat. "Took your lame ass long enough to get here, now spill!" I'd barely bitten into my slice of toast when I groaned.

"Tory .... nothing happened. Okay? I was too damn drunk." She laughed a little at that, knowing if that was the case, then it was probably for the best.

"Okay, so you two didn't knock boots ... this time. But, I mean, you stayed over, right?" I gawked at her. She was blissfully engaging in this conversation with me in between bites of her egg omelette.

"I did, because I was drunk, remember? And, um, he did offer me breakfast too, but I kind of ditched him for you, so ..." I tore off a piece of waffle to stuff in my mouth, giving me an ample excuse not to respond to her right away.

"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N!!!!! Okay, next time you have a sleepover, and we have plans, please for the love of god, DITCH ME!" I felt a light smack across my head, and I was thankful this was just a brunch with her and not Sid. I had washed all my makeup off and put my hair is a messy bun before frantically driving over here.

"Hey, you said it. Next time I'm with a guy, you'll be the last to know." I smirked at her, knowing she didn't mean what she said, well, to a degree. She scoffed a little as she took a sip of her coffee, then it was light a realization hit her and her face turned up in a smirk.

"A guy? I thought Sid sounded promising."

"He is! Tory, that's the problem," I sighed. Might as well give her every detail. "I know, I'm awfully late in 'falling for the maybe-not-a-bad -boy,' but Sid, he's just, he's a gentleman. Or, you know, from what I've seen of his so far." Then my mind trailed back to my desperate moment of clarity in his bathroom. "Although, I couldn't help but notice the array of spare toothbrushes he kept in his bathroom." I winced a little at that. Surely there's other reasons why a grown man keeps extra toothbrushes around besides for all his unplanned hookups, right? As if Tory could read my mind, she blurted out the elephant in the room I'd been hoping to ignore.

"You sure he screams husband material, though?" Husband. There was a word that naturally coincided with whoever I decided would be Lucky Number Seven. And I was already having second thoughts about it being Sid.

"I don't know, but ... apparently drunk me called him by the name of my favorite customer as he was kissing my neck." I tried to say it as nonchalantly as possible, but Tory jumped on that faster than I anticipated she would.

"YOU CALLED HIM SPENCER?!!!" I buried my face in my hands, hoping she would just simply forget that momentary detail. I would have bet wrong.

"I know...I just wish I knew why I did it," I complained, stuffing another bite of waffle into my mouth.

"Y/N, I know you seem completely taken by Sid, and that's great and all, but why not just ask Spencer out? I mean, there is a chance he could said no, then you wouldn't be obsessing over it anymore, right?" I hate it when my best friend always has a point. "You did just confess that your drunk ass self called 'potential husband material' SPENCER."

I choked on the food that had been sitting on my tongue. "That proves just how dumb I am when intoxicated." Tory shook her head vigilantly.

"No, honey. Drunk words are sober thoughts." Kill me, then, I thought, still trying to decipher the current mess that is my feelings.

"No, they're not," I argued back, already knowing it was a losing battle from the start.

"Fine," Tory waved me off, gulping down the rest of her coffee. "I still bet you like him though."

"Whatever."

-

I had convinced Tory to accompany me dress shopping for my younger sister's wedding, which was only in ten days. As I was busy trying on what felt like the hundreth dress, Tory piped up from her spot on the lounge chair. "I just got a crazy, beyond brilliant idea." I rolled my eyes dramatically at her. Anytime she concocted a scheme, I played a part, and hardly ever liked it, though most did pay off in the experience department.

"What is it?" I tried to sound as sincere as possible, though I have a feeling some sarcasm dripped out against my wishes.

"When is Becca getting married, again? Isn't it like in a week?" I nodded, still unsure as to where this was going. "And ... didn't you tell your family that you were bringing a date?" Fuck. I did. Tory was wearing the most shit-eating mischievous grin I'd ever seen. "Alright, so.. the way I see it, you, my dear, have two options: One. You take Sid. See if he really is husband material after all, you know, take that hunk of a man out for a test drive."

I just balked at her. Then I frowned, remembering just what I told Aunt Liza and Becca way back when they were pestering me about seeing someone or not. I will do anything to not get set up by those two. I love them, but they are horrible matchmakers. "See, the thing is ... I would bring Sid, but .. you know, I kinda sorta .. described Spencer when I imagined a fake boyfriend for them." As I listened to what I just said back to myself, I could help the shock that rippled through my face. "Fuck, I am crushing on him, aren't I?" Tory carefully pats me on the back, looking at me in the mirror.

"I think you should buy this dress. You better let me know Spencer's reaction the moment he sees you in it." I froze. What the fuck now?

"What do you mea---"

"Stop pretending, Y/N. Look, you said so yourself. You like Spencer. And he is exactly what your crazy family is expecting, right?" I reluctantly nodded, sighing in defeat, now that I was pretty positive I knew where she was going with this. "So, get his attention tomorrow when you're on your break and just ask him. The worst he can say is 'No.'"

"You're right, I just -- this is weird, right?" She looked at me like I had lost my mind.

"You mean, is it weird that you're going to a wedding with a guy you've been casually flirting with for the past five years? No. What's weird is that it's taken you this long to make your move om him." I slowly cocked my head her way, sticking my tongue out at her ridiculous notion --- one that wasn't as ridiculous as it sounded, to be honest.

Great, I can't wait for tomorrow. And yet, secretly, I can't wait to see my favorite customer.

-

For whatever reason, this morning I was almost perky as I waltz into work a good ten minutes early, even. Cheryl pretended to take my temperature, thinking I must be coming down with something. I shooed her away as the doorbell dinged, alerting us that a certain moppy haired customer ws making his way to the counter where I stood. I couldn't help the stupid, giddy smile that threatened to show my pearly whites. Spencer returned my smile, reciting his coffee order he should know by now I've had memorized by heart.

As I'm making his drink, I decide to grab a napkin, jotting down Can I talk to you in 5? then placing it with the cup as I handed it to him before I moved to help the next customer. I holler over at Cheryl, once it had been five minutes, trying to subtly point in Spencer's direction with my head. She gives me the obvious wink, and shoos me out in to where Spencer is sitting, enjoying his cup of 'too much sugar' coffee. I simultaneously hated and loved that I giggled, seeing as he chose to stay, just because I asked him to on a paper napkin.

"You--you stayed." God, now I just felt stupid and totally awkward because all I have is to ask him to travel with me to Arizona where my sister and her fiancé live. To pretend to be my boyfriend. Just kill me now, universe. Spencer slowly nodded his head, his eyes innocently begging me to spill the reason I asked for his attention in the first place. "Oh, right. Well, see, um, Spencer, the thing is ... I kind of have a pretty big favor I want to ask of you."

Spencer came close to choking on his coffee, spitting out some of it, using the napkin with my handwriting on it to wipe his face off. "I--I'm sorry, I really hope I heard you wrong." It stung a little more than I anticipated, but I needed to clarify my reasons.

"This is awkward, I---I get it, sorry, forget it, I'll just--" I exhaled enough to blow a strand of hair temporarily out of my face. "--I'll figure out how to dig myself out of this hole on my own." I really hoped that he would take pity on me, and at least ask me what my favor would have been.

"Well, I can't say no, unless you ask me." The small smirk I saw, told me I should continue while his eyes were firmly locked on mine. I fiddled with my apron, completely terrified and embarrassed at how I've let this encounter play out thus far.

"Look, you can totally say no, but---well, see my sister is getting married real soon and I am as single as a pringle so, I may have lied to my family and told them I did have someone ... and that someone just happens to look pretty much like you...."

"I'm sorry, 'look like ... me?'" I tried desperately to backpedal, hoping I could still salvage this poor excuse of a plan.

"It's not nearly as creepy as it sounds, look, I don't have a life. Okay, I -- I love coming to work and if I do ever go out, it--it just usually becomes a disaster, so, when my Aunt Liza asked me if she could set me up with one of her friends' sons, I-- I panicked. And you come in here the most during my shift, so ...yeah." I watched Spencer take all this new information in. He slowly brought his eyes back to mine, a cheeky grin now donning his perfect dimples.

"Why are you asking me to go to a wedding with you, again?" I could tell he was milking the fact that I pretty much all but called him cute. I'll give him the compliment. He does deserve it, after all.

"Don't you know? You're my absolute favorite customer! I mean, you're like a walking, talking sex bomb, but you are also the nicest, most down-to-earth human being I have ever met." That was probably the single most honest thing I have ever confessed to anyone. Spencer just shook his head.

"You don't mean that." I scoffed at him, rolling my eyes, as if we've known eachother forever. I try not to let myself dwell on that thought too long.

"I do, really," I said, placing my hand gently on top of his, a move which became far more intimate than I had ever meant it to be. I glanced up at the clock, already knowing I was well past my typical fifteen minutes. I owed Cheryl big time. "Now, please tell me you'll at least consider coming with me? I will owe you free coffee for life! What do you say?" I presented my best puppy dog look, making sure my eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

"Well, when you put it that way ..." Spencer brought his hand to his chin, lightly pondering in what only appeared to have been in deep thought. "Sure." Without thinking I scrambled over to him and planted a small kiss on his cheek.

"Oh my god, thank you!!!" I pulled out a torn piece of paper this time, writing my number on it to give to Spencer. I got a sudden, uneasy feeling, my head thinking back to when Sid asked me for my number, and I -- I hesitated. I shook myself out of my thoughts, handing the paper to Spencer. "Here's my number. I'll book our flight. Should be sometime on Sunday."

Spencer moved to stand, his satchel that he carries around with him every time I've ever see him, hangs off his shoulders as he tucks the paper in one of the pockets. "This better be worth the free coffee I'm promised." I only offered him another thousand watt smile as I walked towards the counter.

"You say that like you don't come in often enough to buy out the entire shop." Spencer laughed, waving goodbye as he left the shop. Little die either of us know he was taking a piece of my heart with him, too.

-

Another couple days went by, and I was getting a little worried that Spencer had decided to back out. I managed to book us a flight to Flagstaff, and a hotel a few miles from where my sister told me everyone else was staying at. Last thing I needed was to give them more of an opportunity to hound him. Dad explained to me the other night that he was thrilled I was bringing a plus-one. So, here I was on a Friday night, watching yet another rom-com while stuffing my mouth with buttery popcorn. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

(555)753-9330📱: Hi, it's Spencer. From the coffee shop? I looked down at it for a second. Then quickly responded, incase I was in danger of losing his promise to accompany me on this trip.

Me📱: Hi! Wow, that's all my butterfingers could come up with, huh? Please tell me you're still coming with me to Arizona? I watched the three little dots appear, then disappear, then reappear again. While waiting, I inputted his number into my contacts list.

Spencer💞📱: I am. Though I'm not entirely sure why I agreed to this. I just finished asking my boss for the time off. You're lucky I had weeks of vacation time just waiting to be used.

Me📱: Well, I for one am thankful you agreed. Btw, I have our flights booked, and we are staying in a hotel down the road from where my family will be at. I was going to tell him I already knew that we'd have separate beds to sleep in, but for some reason, I kept my lips shut about that.

Spencer💞📱: Cool. So ... what time should I meet you at the airport? I debated just telling him when and taking that extra time to get a hold of myself, but if we're going to pull this off, we should try and interact a little before he meets Aunt Liza and Becca. Definitely before he meets Dad. I glanced down at my clock, noting that I still had one more day of work ahead of me before my week with Spencer.

Me📱: Don't worry. I'll drive. You can shoot me your address tomorrow. Flight leaves at 8:00 am so I'll be honking my horn at 6:00 am. You're an early bird, right? I double-checked my alarm one last time before setting my phone down on my nightstand and turning the light off. Vibrations buzzed through my quiet apartment in no time.

Spencer💞📱: I am the second mouse, thank you. You may have to stick an I.V. of coffee in me to pry me out of bed. I couldn't help the smile that creased my face at the thought of seeing Spencer in bed. I could just picture his curly mop of hair strewn everywhere, his face flushed and his bare back--- my phone buzzed again. See you tomorrow, Y/N. Goodnight. I blinked a couple times. See you tomorrow..? panicked for longer than I want to admit, finally realizing he meant seeing me at work. To get his coffee. Just his coffee.

Me📱: Sure thing. Goodnight, Spencer. I placed my phone down, hoping I get at least some sleep tonight. As I closed my eyes, I couldn't help but wonder if my brain would concoct a dream involving a certain curly-haired customer.... I found myself shamelessly smiling as I drifted off.

-

"You need time off for WHAT NOW?!" Cheryl asked me as we stood at the counter, cleaning the glass before it was time to open up shop. Apparently the first thing I did to give myself away was show up before her this morning. So I spilled my plans, forgetting in the process that I hadn't even asked for the time off.

"Cheryl, please do read too much into this, he--Spencer-- is just ... helping me out, that's all." Even as I tried to explain it, I knew just how ridiculous it truly sounded.

"Oh, Y/N, it's clear you have a thing for him ... I've never seen you more giddy or relaxed, than when Spencer comes thru those doors. As if he'd heard us, a knock came from the front of the shop. Spencer's shifting back and forth on the balls of his converse-clad feet, waiting for one of us to come let him in. I walk up slowly, stopping at the door, my hand resisting the urge to unlock it and pull him in for a hug. Oh shit, I've never hugged him, before. I smirked up at him, hovering my hand over the doorknob.

"Can you let me in? I'm only --" I watch him stop to look at his wristwatch, "-- ten minutes early. Please?" Spencer let out his bottom lip into about the cutest pout I've ever seen. I chuckle lightly, unlocking the door, but standing directly in the doorway, preventing Spencer from walking inside. He moves to push me aside, but I stood my ground, causing us to be flush against each other. It felt oddly intimate, and I decided now was as good a time as any to act on my previous thought. I wrapped my arms around him, taking in the fact that he smells just as amazing as he looks.

"I realized that I--we've never, um, hugged before ...? Is this okay?" I was about to pull away and play it off cooly, when I felt his strong arms engulf my body in a similar fashion. He dipped his head down into my neck, his breath warm on my ear.

"Is this what I have to do to get my free coffee?" I hummed at his question, giving him a small smile as we separated. I let him all the way, closing and locking the door behind us.

"Coffee's already made, and you know where we keep your precious sugar," I gestured for him to help himself as I switched the 'Closed' sign over to read 'Open.' I forgot Cheryl was here too, until she said something that made me regret letting her in on my time-off plans.

"Why, hello. You must be Spencer. Y/N talks about you all the time." I pantomimed slitting my own throat while I glared up at her. She just brushed me off, moving to give Spencer his daily dose of sugar with a hint of coffee, no doubt trying to pry more out of him than she ever thought she could of me.

Once I had served the last customer of the morning, I hollered at Cheryl that I was taking my lunch. I grabbed my own coffee and a big piece of pie as I moved to sit with Spencer. My mouth sputtered out a question I'd been sitting on since last night. "Spencer, I gotta know. Why did you agree to even come with me?" It wasn't until after he responded that I realized my question could have been said in a completely different context. He put down his cup, a confused expression now written across his face.

"I--I don't know, actually, though the promise of free coffee from here forever still sounds humbly appealing." I laughed a little too loud, drawing myself some attention from other customers simply trying to enjoy themselves on a rather quiet Saturday morning. "But, well, honestly, I -- I've been meaning to-- I've wanted to get to know you, you know, outside of this place for a while now." He looked nervous all of a sudden, scratching the nape of his neck with his fingernails. I was beginning to feel guilty because, for the past eight years, I've secretly wished for him to have made the first move. I guess it just must have never felt right.

"Well, we're going to be spending a good solid week together, trust me, you'll get sick of me with time. And you don't need me to fulfill your sugar fix. Cheryl would be more than happy to help you out there." He stifled a laugh as he took a bite of my pie. "Excuse me? Did you just---did you seriously steal a piece of my pie?!" I watched as he placed the piece inside his mouth, using his tongue to lick off the excess around his lips. I dipped a finger in the whipped cream, tapping his nose before savoring the sweetness by licking it off in front of him. He watched as I slowly released my digit from my lips, using a napkin to finish wiping it dry.

For the next couple of hours, the two of us just sat there, swapping small talk with bites of pie and sips of coffee. Spencer then promptly asked Cheryl is he could steal me away for the rest of the day. I don't know who was more shocked: Cheryl, when Spencer asked her, or me, when I heard her tell him, "Yes, you crazy kids go on and have some fun."

So, that's precisely what we did. Spencer took me to his favorite bookstore, which was a small hole-in-the-wall shop, which had everything he loved besides coffee. He told me that's how he stumbled into Brew It Yourself, all those years ago. We both laughed at the fact that while the name suggests otherwise, I've always been the one to take care of his order every morning that I could. He then takes me to a park where others gather to play chess. He attempted to teach me, but I sucked so bad that I still managed to lose even when he practically made every move for me.

When he asked me if I wanted to come over to his place, I said yes without processing it. His apartment appeared as cozy as I imagined it would be, the only thing missing was a fireplace. We wound up watching the Princess Diaries, and he laughed at my impersonations of Mia Thermopolis and her grandmother. It had been getting late when he offered for me to stay. I hated that I thought about it for five whole seconds before I declined, coming up with the obvious excuse that my car was still at my place, and I was set to drive us in the morning. Spencer drove me home, giving me a haphazard hug that was more awkward than it should have been. I played it off, telling him to text me when he made it back home. Sure enough, not seventeen minutes later ...

Spencer💞📱: Made it home. Goodnight, Y/N.

\-------♥--------


	2. Our Hands Fit Perfectly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Spencer are now on their way to Arizona to pretend to be a couple in front of her family. Over the week, Reader discovers she's fallen for her favorite customer. Problem is, she's not sure how to go about telling him that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this meant to be just a one shot? Yes. Am I capable of writing those anymore? I do not know.

\-------♥--------

Surprisingly, we managed to make it to the airport with over an hour to spare before our flight was set to depart. We grabbed some breakfast, window shopping until out flight was called to board. We had over seven hours to chit-chat and sleep before landing in Arizona. As much as I wanted to sleep, I wanted to take the opportunity to learn as much about Spencer as I possibly could, considering we have to display the 'fact' that we're 'dating,' at least, to my dad, sister, and aunt.

When the soft bell rang, indicating that we were allowed to unbuckled our seatbelts and move around on the plane, I made quick work of mine, getting comfortable with one of my blankets draped over my lower half while pursing my lips in Spencer's direction. "Alright, so--um, would you want to ask each other some questions?" I found myself feeling nervous, which was understandable considering I didn't actually know Spencer outside of being my favorite customer who always orders a tall grande dark roast with heavy cream and a pound of sugar.

"Wh-what sort of questions are you looking to ask?" I had my first question already waiting inside my head, ready to tumble out my mouth.

"Well," I started, adjusting my position in my seat, almost wishing I could stretch my legs across Spencer's lap. "If money wasn't an object, what would do for an entire day?" I couldn't help the smile that broke past my lips, and it seems Spencer couldn't help but mirror it back to me. My heart flip-flopped at the action. I watched as the man beside me pondered in what looked like an intense thought.

"So, you mean, no matter the cost, you want to know how I would spend my day?" I giggled at the fact that a qualified genius was trying harder than normal to fully understand my question. I nodded. He sat in silence a bit longer before slightly shaking his head, burying it in his abnormally large hands. I decided to take some pity on him.

"Okay, for me, I would fly out to Disney World, spend my entire day out at the Magic Kingdom." Spencer popped his head out from his palms, his curls looking damn near magical in the sun shining through the window behind him. "I know it's the park that essentially designed for children, but I'll have you know I will forever be a kid at heart." We laughed lightly about it, and I nodded back to Spencer, letting him know it was his turn to speak again.

"I can see that. I bet you'd look cute, too." I couldn't even begin to react to his compliment because the second it left his lips, he hastily backtracked. "I-I, um, wanted to kn--" I interrupted him for his sake, and mine, because I really wanted to know his answer.

"Spencer! You answer my question first, then you can ask yours." His blush flashed over his cheeks like a stop light. He mumbled over himself in whispers, his eyes darting over to meet mine before quickly glancing back down to his hands in his lap.

"I guess, I really don't know. Well, I do know, I just---it's not exactly 'first date' material." I snorted at his terminology.

"Good thing this isn't a first date, then," I sighed, placing my hand on his, enjoying the warmth he was giving off far too much for my stupid brain to admit. "Hey, look, you're the one doing me this huge favor, okay? I asked you to come because, well---I've always wanted to get to know you, I mean, outside of work. Over the years, I could never help but think that the two of us could be the best of friends, if we wanted to be." The worry that I'd seen flash behind his eyes earlier was now gone, his features softened as he cleared his throat to continue.

"Well, um, my mom. She's ... sick." Spencer clenched his eyes briefly, a single tear fell and I found myself wishing I would have wiped it away before it hit the back of his hand. "It's, um, it's not new. She's been sick practically my whole life. But, um, if money wasn't an issue, then I'd want to try anything to make her ... better. She'd be my mom, again. And, even though I'm now a grown man, I'd give anything just to be her five year old son again. For us to make the memories I wished I had with her, instead of the ones I do have." On instinct, I lifted the armrest that had been between us, pulling him in a hug I'd bet my life on that we both needed in that moment.

"You know what, maybe if we both wish for that at the same time, it just might come true." I knew as well as I'm sure he did that it probably would never come true. However, Spencer shut his eyes, his hand coming to grip mine. That's when I felt it. Our hands fit perfectly. It was something my mother had briefly touched on when I was younger. Before I could think on the memory more, Spencer opened his eyes and barely whispered back.

"Do you think it worked?" I sure as hell didn't have the heart to tell him I never closed my eyes. They were far too fixated on the way my hand looked encompassed in his. I nodded my head, choosing to lean forward a little so that I could whisper directly in his ear.

"I think whatever you wish for in your heart will come true, no matter what." This time when another tears escaped his eye, I caught it with the pad of my thumb before I could register the shocked look on his face. He furrowed his brows a little, seemingly releasing any tension that had once just been there.

"Thank you," Spencer whispered back. "So, um, I can ask the next question now?" I nodded, falsely enthusiastic, hoping to convey that I wasn't one to keep hold of moments such as the one we had only just shared mere seconds ago. "How old were you when you first learned that Santa wasn't real?" My eyes went wide at his question.

"Excuse me?! Santa is too real!" I nudged his arm playfully as we both chuckled at his obscene question. "Though, I will have you know that I was about four when I learned that it was my parents who picked out the presents and filled our stockings, claiming they were from Santa." I briefly viewed the memory as I closed my eyes. "Oh, and I always knew it was Dad who ate the cookies and drank the egg nog." I quirked one eye open, gauging Spencer's reaction to my answer. His expression just looked more puzzling than anything.

"I would have loved to have been able to say that about my dad," he sighed. I nudged him a little, hoping he understood my silent request for him to explain. "He, uhh, he left us when I was just a kid. In fact, he lived less than five miles away and never once bothered to check in on me, though he apparently thought that keeping records of all my achievements was enough, I guess." His face fell once more, and I wanted nothing more in the world other than to keep more tears from falling from his beautiful eyes.

"Hey, I'm getting a little sleepy," I whispered, wiggling about to get more comfortable, purposely using Spencer as my personal pillow. "You mind if I lay on you?" He didn't answer, he just rested his head gently on top of mine. I briefly heard his breathing even out before I succumbed to what became the best sleep I had gotten in a while, for being on a plane, that is.

"Y/N....wake up," I heard Spencer's voice rip me away from what I could only imagine was a pleasant dream I was in the middle of, based on the drool I felt as I separated my mouth from his collarbone. I shifted back over to my seat, thinking we must be close to descending.

"Have they called for us to put our seat belts back on yet?" Spencer shook his head, but as he did so, the announcement flooded the speakers throughout the plane. "Question answered." I brought the arm rest back down, already missing how it felt to be pressed up against him. As I was making sure I had everything put back in my bag, Spencer placed one of his hands over mine, prompting me to stop what I was doing to look up at him.

"One last question. If you came with a warning label, what would it be?" I blinked I don't know how many times, unaware that my tongue could be catching fruit flies any second now.

"I--um, well," I let out a frustrated sigh, unsure if I should simply play this off cool, or rock the boat here. I glance over to see his face, one that is patiently waiting for me to give him a satisfying answer. "I don't know, just--- Has an insatiable habit of falling for the typical bad boys who also turn out to be emotionally unavailable. .? Oh, and I so do not mix well with alcohol."

"Okay, so won't your family think it's weird you're with me, 'cause, well, I'm definitely not what you'd probably label a 'bad boy.'" No, you most certainly are not. I cringed at his statement. Does he not realize that the entire reason he is here is because he doesn't fall under my normal pool of eligible boys? In that moment, I knew. I didn't want the bad boy. I wanted the good man. 

-

The majority of our week flew by faster than I wanted. When I introduced Spencer to my dad, Becca, and Aunt Liza; well, they all bombarded him with ridiculous questions like Are you sure you can say you know her? and If you haven't figured her out yet, don't be shocked when you do. It only got worse from there. But, Spencer shot back more genuine and sincere than I would have ever thought possible. He countered each of their verbal attacks with nothing short of loving praises for his 'girlfriend.' So much so, that I found myself desperately wishing I truly was. 

I had managed to talk with Tory a few times, not at all surprised when she quickly deduced that I wasn't exactly going to be seeing Sid anytime soon. That's when the guilt had set in for me. My stupid brain was stuck debating on whether to come clean to Spencer about why I was so desperate that he come with me on this trip .... or to hope that he never asks about it and returns my pathetic feelings..? Sometimes I really hate the pickles I keep putting myself in. 

Every night, we both managed to remain in our respective beds, occasionally one of us would join the other, but only to watch movies pretty much. I'd heard him scratching away with a pen in one of his notebooks one night. I wondered what was keeping him up to where he couldn't fall asleep. I wanted to let him know I was awake too, but then I knew he'd blame himself for having been the cause of it to begin with. I stayed as quiet as possible, letting my eyes fall shut once more. 

It didn't help that Spencer was far too good at pretending to be my boyfriend. From the way he would spontaneously peck my forehead, cheek, and once, my lips. He would often laugh at every stupid joke I'd say, especially the geese joke. I could tell he was a keeper in my dad's after that. However, Aunt Liza and Becca weren't won over until Wednesday evening when we were all over at Becca's apartment, playing a game of cards. Aunt Liza took her turn, eyeing Spencer the way she usually eyed all my past boyfriends. Like he was up to something she just could quite pinpoint even with her well-manicured finger. 

"So, Spencer. How long have you and Y/N been together?" I about choked on my dessert when Spencer shot me a glance that read as worried as fuck. Admittedly, so was I. I knew what my aunt was doing. This isn't the first time I have talked about having someone else just to save face, but this is the first time that said person has made an actual appearance ... and could be interrogated, it would seem. Spencer cleared his throat, giving my aunt what he only thought she wanted to hear. 

"Well, I guess, for me, it's been forever. Well, eight years. But, it's only been a couple of months since I found out my feelings weren't strictly unrequited." Everyone had their mouth drawn open, including me. 

"Good answer. I guess he's more of a keeper than I thought." I couldn't keep in my usual banter when it came to my 'kinky' aunt. 

"Aunt Liza, you say that about nearly every single one of my exes." I glared at her, knowing she was about to counter that fact with the only one that was obviously staring both of us in the face. 

"Oh, honey, while that's true, Spencer here is the only one you have bothered to bring around since you moved out of your father's house." I watched her take a small bite of her meal, swallowing it before continuing her train of thought. "Also, am I seriously the only one here who noticed that Spencer isn't exactly what we all assumed was Y/N's type?" I tossed my napkin down, moving to stand up from my seat. 

"So what? I'm a grown woman now. I would think my taste in men should change, don't you think?" I was practically seething now, hoping Spencer would take the hint and move to leave with me. I mean, how else would he get to the hotel? 

"Y/N," my dad started, "you aunt does have a point. I mean, wasn't it you who called Becca just the other day to gossip about some guy named Si---" 

"Spencer. Dad. She called me to gush about her boyfriend. Right, Y/N?" Becca eyed me carefully, and I knew she was looking for praise at the fact that she practically just saved my ass just now. 

"Right. See, Dad? Aunt Liza?" I finished shoving my chair underneath the table, moving to grab my jacket while Spencer gave me a deer-in-the-headlights look. "We'll see you tomorrow for brunch, then?" They all nodded, and I silently excused myself, hoping Spencer would simply follow. He did. 

Back at our hotel, I had beat Spencer to the bathroom, hoping to shower and relax, giving myself more time to cope with the fact that I still hadn't told him the entire truth, yet. As fate would have it, the minute I walked out, wrapped up in only my bath towel, my phone began to ring. I mouth a silent 'sorry,' as I walked over to my bed to pull it out of my purse pocket. 

Me📲: Hello?

Sid📲: Hey, gorgeous. Been thinking about that sexy ass of yours all day. I gulped, looking towards Spencer, except he'd already disappeared into the bathroom, the shower turning on almost instantly. Shit. 

Me📲: Sid, Hi. I , um, I didn't expect to hear you call. I mean, I didn't. But, then again, I do normally expect callbacks from guys whom I give out my number to. Which included him. 

Sid📲: Well, love, I can't say I wasn't disappointed when I hadn't heard from you in a few days. I even popped inside your little shop. I hoped Cheryl hadn't given away too much unneeded information as to why I was absent. 

Me📲: Ohh, well---I--

Sid📲: Don't worry, love, I---I saw the two of you. Wait, what now?

Me📲: What do you mean, you saw us? 

Sid📲: You at the pipe cleaner with eyes. Gotta say, love, I didn't peg him to be your type. 

Me📲: Yeah, that makes two of us. I sighed. I was strangely comforted by the fact that Sid seemed to understand my hidden feelings even moreso than I have. 

Sid📲: Yeah, look, I just was calling to see if I still had a chance with you. It's alright if I don't. I just hope the bloke who's got you wrapped round his finger knows just how lucky of a bastard he is. I couldn't help but giggle a little. 

Me📲: You know what, Sid? You really are too perfect to be true. I laid down on my bed, trying to hide the smile that just wouldn't leave my face. 

Sid📲: For what its worth, I enjoyed our time together, love. 

Me📲: I enjoyed you as well, Sid. 

Sid📲: Sweet dreams, love. 

Me📲: Sweet dreams, Sid. 

I closed my phone, tossing it on the nightstand just in time to hear the shower water turn off. When Spencer came out, he'd already changed into a loose cotton t-shirt and boxers, making a quick and obvious beeline to his bed. As if he could read my thoughts, he answered the question I was only just now thinking to ask him. "If you still want to watch a movie, you can, but I---I'm tired, so uhh, goodnight." 

Stunned, I clicked the TV off, burying myself a hole in my clusterfuck of covers, mumbling a barely coherent 'goodnight' back to him before I let my eyes close shut and my mind drift off to what ended up being the most uncomfortable night's sleep I've had in ages. 

-

When my eyes fluttered opened, I was surprised to see Spencer still sound asleep in his bed. The way his nose twitched every so often makes my heart warm up to the idea I've sat with for far too long now. How do I tell him that I'm falling for him in so little words? I mulled over my thoughts as I heard his soft snores fill the room. He was laying on his back with his left arm resting over his chest, his right arm seemingly underneath the pillow that was next to him. I glanced over at the clock. 4:23 am. We weren't due to be at brunch until around 11:00 am. With some time to kill, I decided my best approach might as well be a non-verbal one. 

I carefully tip-toed over to the side of his bed he wasn't sleeping on, slowly sinking myself underneath the covers, hoping the feeling of my cold hands and feet don't wake him up. I expected Spencer to push me away, awake or not, but instead, I felt his arm move to enclose me against him as his head buried itself in the crook of my neck. 

Suddenly, I became his favorite stuffed toy he was in no mood to part with. 

Just as I found my new sweet spot, I felt Spencer stir, his eyes slowly opening as I quickly debated just how I was about to explain why I am currently in his bed. 

"Morning," Spencer said, groggily, gripping my frame even tighter than he had been before. I tilted my head up to meet his eyes, but the second we bumped noses, it felt like a new wave of tension suddenly filled the room and I became uncomfortably aware of the fact that I somehow forgot how to breathe. I prayed it was just my stupid imagination, but I swear Spencer looked like he wanted to kiss me. 

Quickly, I wiggled myself out of his bed, scampering over to mine, pulling out an outfit to wear to brunch later. I was almost home free before I heard Spencer clear his throat, sitting up, still underneath the comforter. "Something the matter?" It was stupid, I know, but I couldn't think of anything else to say. 

"N-no, just---what were you doing in bed ... with me?" I froze. I wanted to say something cheeky, gauge his reaction, but ultimately decided against it. Fact was, he certainly didn't seem to mind that I had slept in his bed ... with him still in it. I turned around slowly to face him, noticing he wasn't wearing a shirt. I fought myself to keep my eyes glued to his, but as I answered him, they slowly drifted south. 

"Oh, um, well, I--I just, I was cold, and you pack a surprising amount of body heat, so..." I didn't wait for a response. As fast as my feet could carry me, I sprinted for the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. Fuck, this brunch is going to be so awkward. 

A couple hours later, my phone buzzed. Spencer was now in the bathroom, and I was sprawled across my own bed, trying to figure out how to not act incredibly stupid and overtly awkward in front of Becca and her fiancé. 

Becky😜: sorry to cancel last minute but I need to have a last-minute dress fitting. Reservation is still there if you and your boyfriend wanna go. I mulled over my options. For one, I could lie to Spencer, but then I'd have to stretch it, or two, I could just tell him the truth and ask what he wants to do. I choose the latter as he steps outside the bathroom in just a towel around his waist. Once again, I had to actively focus on his eyes and not the possibility of stealing a peek at what's underneath the towel. 

I quickly typed out an 'ok' reply, tossing my phone next to me on the bed, feeling my voice catch in my throat as I try to make sound in the form of words come out of my mouth. "S-so, um, Spencer, there's, um, been a ch-change of plans today." I watch as he nods, walking over to his suitcase, pulling out a typical button down and slacks to wear for the day. He looks back over at me, and I can tell he silently is waiting for me to say more. I clear my throat, hoping to work up the nerve before it dissipates altogether. "Becca can't make it, but she, um, she said that the reservation wasn't cancelled, so, um, do you--I mean, would you," I sighed, mustering up even just an ounce of the courage I only wish I had, "Would you like to accompany me to brunch ... just the two of us?" I peeked over, noticing Spencer now on his pants on, his shirt buttoned up except for the top three. He sat down on his bed, one of his hands running through his damp hair as his curls became more prominent as he did so. 

"Of course, Y/N," he said as he finished tying his tie. "Not to sound rude, but I am kind of glad your sister won't be there." I feigned offence, guessing as to why he would say that. 

"You know I'm related to her, right?" Spencer just nods, chuckling softly as he comes to stand beside me. 

"Ready to go?" 

-

The restaurant is high end, with fancy menus and everything. Even a chocolate fountain, with a real, enormous one in the center, not far from where we were seated. Spencer and I settled into casual conversation, and for a brief moment, I believed any awkwardness had washed away with my fears and anxiety. That was, until Spencer brought up the fact that, with Becca unable to join, we didn't have to come up with a sex-life story. I snorted, excusing myself as I took a sip of my mimosa. Feeling just as bold as I had this morning, I tried to casually respond as innocently as I possibly could. 

"Well, I can only just imagine how good it would really feel to know what it's like to have slept with you." I heard Spencer choke on his water as he lifted his napkin to his lips. It didn't help that I found his bashfulness cute. 

"Uhhh--well, I--" He blinked a few times at me like he still couldn't believe what his ears heard. I decided to try and backpedal, just a little. 

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, I--" I gripped the edge of the table closest to me in a poor attempt to keep my fingers from tapping on top. "This isn't exactly appropriate table-talk, I suppose." I cringed at my own stupid comment, now feeling just how red my face must look to him. 

"Just, um, for the record," Spencer started, clearing his throat before he let his voice drop a bit, his face coming to settle mere inches from mine. "I've gathered that my past partners have never left my bed empty-handed." Oh. Ohhhh!

"Oh." He wrinkled his cute nose only a little, but it was enough to cause another snort or erupt from my nose. 

"What oh?!" I quickly quieted my laughter, settling my nerves by grabbing a couple of fries from his plate. 

"Nothing--just, so you're telling me you always take your partners to your place, and you gift them with orgasms? Like, as in, plural?" The way in which his eyes grew in size was enough to threaten yet another snort to leave me. Suddenly, Spencer's hand silenced my mouth, and the feeling that gave me overwhelmed me in more ways than one. 

"My god, Y/N!" He whisper-shouted at me. "Please, feel free to say it louder, why don't you?!" I immediately felt bad, bringing my hands up to his one, slowly lowering it away from my lips. 

"Well, if you're embarrassed by this, we can totally change the subject, Spencer." I let a soft sigh out, taking my fork and swirling around the pasta that was still sitting on my plate. A thought came to mind, and my mouth betrayed me without a second thought. "Though, I'm surprised you haven't told me just how often, stereotypically speaking, women tend to fake their orgasms, especially with their respective partners for the first time." The way in which he about choked on his bite of shrimp erupted another snort from me. He had me on a roll, apparently. 

"You're right, that is true.." he pondered, taking time to look deep in thought, making me wonder if I've really crossed an unspoken line this time. What came out of his mouth next knocked him off the imaginary pedestal I had subconsciously placed him on since before this trip ever started. I narrowed my eyes at him as I heard him finished his thought. "But, I doubt I've ever experienced it ... before." Before? Whether to good doctor knew it or not, my mind couldn't help but unscramble Spencer's phrasing to presumably indicate that he was insinuating that I would be his first partner to fake it, if we ever found ourselves in said situation. Fuuuuck. 

I leaned my chin down on the palms of my hands as I rolled my eyes up at him, still narrowing them at his, much like I would arrows aimed straight for their target. "Didn't you once tell me that you are, by definition, a certified genius?" I tried to sound as curious as possible, hoping to allure him into admittance of his own accord, whether he was truly smart enough to figure it out on his own. 

Spencer just nodded, sipping more of his now cold coffee. "Hmmhmm." I leaned back, clasping my hands together, my entire face now lit up in excitement, knowing I had him trapped. 

"So, just so I have this straight, what I'm hearing is that not only do you claim to be the dumbest genius I've ever known, but also that you are a stereotypical man when it comes to having a woman in his bed." I dared a glance up at his from underneath my small lashes, more curious now than ever to see what reaction he'll give me this time. The way his cheeks flushed, how the tips of his ears pinked, even the way his eyes darted around in small circles; all of it, I couldn't help but soften a little before he met me with a look of pure embarrassment. 

"What?! No! I never said that." The high IQ genius, of course, was correct. But, in his own words, he did admit to it. I just wondered how long it would take now for the gears to click into place. With a small smirk on my lips, I raised on eyebrow his way, waiving down the waiter to give us the check. 

"I never said you did." At this point, I was thinking Spencer was going to as me to drop this conversation and talk about something else, anything else, thus saving us both from this hilarious, yet completely awkward, table-talk. But, he didn't. 

"Whatever," he murmured, waving his hand whimsically in the air. "It doesn't matter. It's not like I'll ever know if you consider yourself in either category." My brain went full-stop. What? I mean, he's not wrong, but----WHAT?

"What do you mean?" I knew my tone was rather accusatory, but I felt it was necessary given what the man across from me just implied. Spencer heaved out a sigh, seemingly collecting all his thoughts before speaking up, again. 

"Well, I mean that--that I'll never really truly know if you're the 'fake it' type, or if whatever you do in the bedroom is real." My ears heard his words, but I was stuck on how .. sad? he seemed to sound as he continued to twist the knife of reality a little deeper in my heart. "I mean, us, you and me, it's just for show, right?" I wanted to tell him that it wasn't, that it hadn't been--not since Sid called me. I settled for agreeing with him, istead. Can't get any worse, right? 

"Ye-yeah, right. Just for show." I shook my head, wishing I could shake the awkward tension that we seemed to have created together. "C'mon, even if, hypothetically, mind you, I'd even consider letting you have a peek at what I sound like--for real--I doubt you, a man, could truly tell the difference." The small smirk that graced his once embarrassed face caused something visceral in me to stir. And if that wasn't enough of a reason to think deviously, what Spencer had to say next practically sealed the deal inside my head. 

"Contrary to what you believe you know, I can totally tell the difference." 

I narrowed my eyes at him once more before I scanned the number of people who would soon bare witness to just how well I actually can 'fake it.' Interestingly enough, there were only eight others sitting within potential earshot of us. I couldn't keep the growing smile off my face before I caught Spencer clocking it. "Really? You think so?" Spencer simply nodded, taking a fry from my plate and sticking it in his mouth. Perfect. 

"Oh," I moaned, causing Spencer to stop mid-chew, the fry that was in his mouth now on the plate in front of him, his jaw wide and to the floor like a Looney Tunes cartoon. "Ohhhh." I tried to conjure up a moment in a movie I once saw where a woman was doing this exact same thing to a guy who she would randomly bump into once every five or so years. I placed one hand on my neck, as I remember her doing, the other snaking up into my hair. Good thing I wore it down today. "Ohhh gooddddd." I was starting to get real into it, too. I felt my eyes flutter shut, not above pretending it was Spencer moving his long fingers over me, his lips kissing me.. "Aahhh." I cried out, completely unaware of the wide-eyed stare I was being given by the 'genius who still thinks with his dick.' "Ohhhh GOD." 

By now, I had a small audience. I moved the hand that had been gently gripping my hair, alibet, a whole lot softer than I imagine he would, if given the chance, slamming it on the table between us, my moans now coming out as whimpers as I sped up my menstrations on the chair I was sitting on. "Oh yeah, right there." I was honestly thankful that while I'm sure I had drenched my panties, my jeans remained bone dry, giving absolutely no indication that this wasn't entirely fake. "Ohh god, YES!" I slammed my hand against the wood again, for dramatic effect. "Oh, oh, OH YES, YES!!" As I was coming down from the high I created, I let out a lasting "Ooohhhhh," to finish off my solid performance. I quickly composed myself in seconds, leaning over to steal a fry off of Spencer's plate and sticking it in my mouth, much like he had done to me. 

"What?" I asked, as if I didn't just pretend [not really] to experience an orgasm in the middle of a prestigious establishment in the early afternoon. Before either one of us could break the incredibly uncomfortable silence between us, a woman a few tables down cleared her throat in front of her waitress, pointing directly at me and said, "I'll have what she's having." 

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "So much for a private conversation," I muttered in a sarcastic tone, which shouldn't have surprised me when Spencer's next words proved that sarcasm still manages to go right over his perfectly curly head of hair. 

"Like you weren't begging for attention just now," he states, waving his hand around as if to dramatically emphasis his very true point. I didn't miss him shifting in his seat as he eyed the restrooms that were on the other side of the dining area we'd been seated in. He turned back to me, a questionable look in his eyes now. "Also, where the hell did that even come from?" I shook my head, knowing that he no longer cared whether he was right or wrong. He had all the obvious signs of arousal written over his adorable pout. 

"Oh. Saw it in a movie once," I said, shrugging my shoulders as if this was totally normal of me to do on a Thursday afternoon with a guy who was still just a stranger a few days ago. Spencer wobbled a little, standing up from his chair, and I hoped he wasn't trying to escape my company. 

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I----" he paused, looking at me as if I was the little girl from a horror film about to come tell you it was your turn to die. Quickly, Spencer bolted, and I breathed out a sigh of relief when I watched him disappear into the men's restroom. 

"Well, well, I'll be damned." 

-

Back inside our hotel room, I felt a wave of anxiety reach me as I contemplated which outfit to wear for Becca's rehearsal dinner. The dinner. An event I had been previously looking forward to, but now find myself dreading. Why can't I just tell Spencer how I feel? Am I crazy? I slowly trailed my eyes over to him, wishing he could hear what my mouth can't seem to speak out loud. I look back over to my wardrobe choices, going with the velvet one with the cap sleeves. After changing in the bathroom, I walked out to find Spencer already dressed as well, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, his face snapping up to meet mine as I froze in place. 

"Hi."  
"Hey." 

We said at the same time. He chuckled lightly, letting out an airy sigh, "Um, I was just wondering, um-- you can totally refuse to answer, but, well, um, have you, um-- have you ever actually had to 'fake it' ... before?" I laughed, glad, for once, that I didn't snort like Miss Piggy. I walked over to sit on my own bed, turning to face him as I searched my head to find the words.

"I---I guess, um, well, I've never felt like I had to, per say, it's just--- I know that when I don't, I just, I feel like I'm a dud." I clasped my mouth with my hand, all too aware that I incidentally let a small truth about myself slip out for Spencer's ears to hear. 

"What do you mean?" I'm appreciative that he left his question vague for a reason, however, we both knew exactly what he was getting at. I was about to give an even more honest response when I remembered that my performance had been reciprocated well enough to cause the very man in front of me to having to have excused himself to go finish what I had apparently started. Keeping that gem tucked away in my mind, I pretended to ponder of his question, deciding on my answer much sooner than before. 

"Well, I got enough experience under my belt to know that if I'm not being 'loud enough,' or 'vocal enough,' then the guy usually assumes, correctly unfortunately, that I'm not enjoying myself, so, instead, of, well, helping me, they normally just .... leave." I quickly added on more to hopefully hide my insecurities from him as best I could. "But, it sure did make me feel better, knowing that I was right in that you're just another typical male easily turned on by a few 'Ohhh's and 'Oh god's.'" 

Spencer rolls his eyes, getting up from the bed to come over to stand in front of me. "I know, even though I really had hoped that maybe, you wouldn't mention it..." He moved to plant himself on the edge of the bed next to me, his eyes refusing to level with my own just yet. "...but, um, now that you have, um, does--does that m-mean that ..." As he spoke, his volume dropped to a whisper, his nose touching mine, making me giggle a little. I stopped abruptly, though, seeing the way he was staring at me through lidded eyes. Eyes that felt like they were practically burning a hole straight to my core. Our lips touched briefly, my text tone going off from my phone behind us, sitting in my purse atop the hotel room desk. 

I pulled away, hesitantly, trying to gauge just what it was we were doing here. This was still fake, right? No, no, it was real. It is real. I want it to be fucking REAL. I knew I should get up and check my phone, but being this close to Spencer seemed far more important than potentially being late to my own sister's rehearsal dinner. Just as I was about to lean in towards him again, he smirked, shaking his head as he rolled back on the bed, his eyes aimed at the ceiling. 

"Almost had you there, didn't I?" I scoffed, turning my body to face his, sitting criss-cross. I eyed him suspiciously, hoping he was only joking, that maybe he was just as nervous as I was? Am? I reached out to touch is arm, letting my fingers linger softly down past his elbow towards his hand. Right as I gently placed my hand in his, I retorted. 

"Please, you wish." I gripped his hand tight, yanking his lanky body upright so that I could crash my lips against his. The gasp I felt more than heard escape from his mouth lit every inch of me aflame. I moaned at the feeling of his hands gripping my hair, tugging at the roots harshly. When we allowed ourselves a reprieve to breathe, I chose that moment to taunt him a step further. "I believe it is I who have you." Next thing I know, Spencer is biting at my lip, his tongue gaining entrance before my brain could process that we might as well have been two love drunk teenagers making out behind their parents' backs. 

Before hands could travel south, my phone rings this time, playing Becca's signature 'Ain't Nobody Got Time for That' ringtone. I huffed, breaking apart from Spencer, leaning over to grab the mood-killing device. Me📲: Hey, Becs, what's up? I know I sounded out of breath, and apparently so did my sister. 

Becky😜📲: I interrupted something, didn't I? Spencer picked the wrong moment to cough, loudly, conveying to my sister what she probably already thought she knew. 

Me📲: What? No, well ... it's just, we were kind of making out-- I hushed the last bit of that directly into the speaker with my hand covering my mouth in hopes that Spencer's hearing wasn't as finely tuned as his I.Q. 

Becky😜📲: Are you SERIOUS?! She laughed, causing me to groan while still sitting next to Spencer. Well, if you don't have enough concealer, let me know, I got the motherload after being with Scott. He just can't seem to keep his hands or his mouth, for that matter, off me. I glared at the wall in front of me, pretending it was my sister's stupid face. 

Me📲: BECCA! No, no ... just kissing. Nothing else. 

Becky😜📲: Please, Scott and I get frisky with each other all the time! It's absolutely to be embarrassed about, sweetie. I fell on the bed next to Spencer, hoping I was only seconds away from being able to throw my phone across the room. 

Me📲: Just because I don't makeout with my boyfriend in public doesn't mean we don't devour each other behind closed doors, okay! The look in Spencer's eyes told me he assumed I had taken it a step too far. He clearly did not know my sister at all. 

Becky😜📲: Y/N! At least tell me you've learned to leave hickey's ... I mean, that boyfriend of yours could easily learn, too. You did say he was a genius, right? I rolled my eyes, knowing she wouldn't see it. Problem was, Spencer did. 

Me📲: BECCA! 

Becky😜📲: What? Believe it or not, Scott loves to mark me up, pretty sure it's a kink of his. I wanted to melt into the floor, never to be corporeal, again. Don't tell me you don't know at least one of Spencer's kinks... trust me, everyone has one, rather they are aware of it or not. 

Me📲: Well, I honestly don't know any of his, okay, so can we please drop it? Right as I say that, I swore I heard Spencer mumble something that sounded a hell of a lot like 'overstimulation,' but I didn't chance turning my head to find out. 

Becky😜📲: Fine, hey, gotta go. Just remember what I said. 

Me📲: Bye. I shut my phone, tossing it on the bed, deciding to see if Spencer had been eavesdropping or not. Not wanting to remain in this awkward silence for much longer, I glance at the clock and say, "Guess we should finish getting ready, right?" 

"Uhuh, yeah," Spencer coughed, looking only slightly confused, then nodding his head, moving back to his bed on the opposite side of the room. God, I hope the rehearsal dinner goes better. 

-

By the time we made it to the dining hall in the hotel for the rehearsal dinner, to say things were super excited would be an extreme understatement. He kissed me, I kept thinking to myself every time I'd catch him stealing a glance my way, then failing at pretending that he did no such thing. It was completely endearing and cute. We were seated together at the bride and groom's table, a few extended family members came that could. We managed to get the soon-to-be-married couple through the entire practice run without a hitch, and now we were all sat down, enjoying a small dinner my dad had catered for the night. 

"Excuse me, if I could have everyone's attention, please?" Dad clinked his champagne glass with one of the tiny spoons, letting everyone quiet down to listen. "Now, I thank you all, again, for coming out to help us celebrate the union of my daughter, Becca, and my soon-to-be son-in-law, Scott." I couldn't help but watch the way my dad was so proud to welcome a man into the family. Made me think back to earlier in the week, when he made it obvious that he liked Spencer far more than he ever liked Richard, or hell, any of my past boyfriends. I stole another glance over at my date, catching his eyes looking over at me, as well. Even though we broke eye contact, I felt his hand come to hold mine under the table. 

"Now, I believe my other daughter has some words to share with you all. Y/N?" My father gestured towards me, moving to let me take his spot at the front of the room. I was grateful there was no need for a microphone, the sound of my own voice was bad enough, already. I cleared my throat, looking back over at Spencer, once again. He was talking with Becca and Dad, chuckling at something I could only guess one of them had said. 

"Hi," I said, all too awkwardly, considering everyone here, besides Spencer, was a part of my family, well, also besides Scott's family, I guess. So why am I suddenly so nervous and anxious? "Sure you all know I'm Y/N, Becca's sister." I took in a hesitant breath. The first story that came to mind was my favorite, and I also hoped it would cement the fact that I've fallen for Spencer in the process. "She was only about three when our mother died," a soft silence filled the room. Everyone who ever knew Mom, knew she was once a comforting presence to everyone, no matter what. "One of my favorite stories to tell, is the one about how Mom once told me, step-by-step, how to find my soulmate, my, um, 'Lucky Seven.'" I went on to paint the full picture, getting 'awes' from the crowd, while Dad would correct me here and there, if I got something incorrect. "And then, I realized that I'm ... close. See, Becca never went by the timeline. No, she chose to let life happen to her and, in doing so, brought her to Scott." I felt the tears burn my makeup as I forced myself to look over at Spencer. 

"See, I met someone, recently, and I thought, maybe he was 'the one.'" It killed me to see the way Spencer's eye lit up at that, knowing that I wasn't talking about him, at least, not now. "I spent one night with him, and, I thought I knew. So, I--I did a stupid thing and I tried to, um, correct my timeline." I sniffled, still not entirely prepared to flat out cry in front of family the night before my sister is set to get married. "I, uhh, I begged someone I didn't know, outside of his name and coffee order. I--I thought that, if I switched them, had, um, Spencer, here be, number six, so that, uhh, this guy, who I also barely knew, could be number seven." I stopped, trying to catch a breath. 

"I'm sorry," I said directly to Spencer. "But, I got to know you this week, like really know you. Or, at least, it felt like it. But---" I stopped when I looked back and saw that Spencer was no longer sitting in his seat. I looked between Becca and Dad, and both looked hurt, sad, and a little angry. In that moment, I lost all air in my lungs. I had royally fucked this up. "So--sorry, I--I need to..." I just ran off, not exactly thinking of where my feet were taking me. I just knew I needed to getto Spencer. I needed to talk to him, make sure he knew exactly how I feel. I made it outside the hotel, but as I looked on in every direction, I couldn't find him to save my life. 

I pulled out my phone, dialing his number so fast, I think the pads of my fingers went numb. It rang. It rang until I got his voicemail, one that just had a pre-recording repeat the ten digits back to me, without ever hearing Spencer's voice. I called again. And again. I wanted to leave him a voicemail, but, I knew this was a conversation that needed to only happen in person. I didn't even know if he knew the area at all outside of where I've shown him. Part of me hoped he hadn't just hopped on a plane back to Virginia. I couldn't blame him, though. 

I stared back at the hotel. I knew I should drag my feet back inside, give an explanation, at least, one to Becca and Dad, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I opted, instead, to simply walk back to the hotel we'd been staying at, a small sliver of hope inside me wishing to find Spencer there, even sound asleep, just knowing where his is...is all I wanted right now. 

I made it back within an hour, the sun already gone, and still, so was Spencer. His bed was still perfectly made, his suitcase and all his belongings still present. Good. That means he didn't fly home. I could still hopefully explain myself. I tried calling him once more. Still voicemail. Part of me begged whatever higher power I could to keep my mind from wondering if maybe he was so mad, that he would hookup with a stranger at a bar, go back to her place and forget all about me until our flight back home. 

After a couple hours of crying and eighteen more failed attempts at calling Spencer, I gave up, crawling into my bed like a wounded animal. I thought about sleeping in his bed, to have his scent surround me, making me feel safe, but last thing I wanted was to hurt him more than I already seem to have done. I closed my eyes, praying that tomorrow will be better than tonight was, that I'd be given my chance to fix things. 

I felt something warm touch me, causing me to stir awake. A pair of arms had locked me in an almost vice-like grip, only loose enough that I don't feel suffocated. Tight enough that I can't even think twice about escaping. Not that I would ever want to. I wanted to ask Spencer so many questions, but I settled on the fact that he crawled into my bed this time, holding me like I was the only thing keeping air in his lungs. 

I nestled as close to him as I could without waking him, solemnly enjoying this moment for what I wanted it to be instead of what is was. I only hoped that I could mend things with Spencer before it was too late. 

\-------♥--------


	3. I Didn't Mean to Fall in Love with You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader wakes up to find Spencer gone. She attends her sister's wedding alone, almost ready to give up when he shows up at the reception to see if her feelings were real or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was totally meant to be a ONE SHOT. I apologize for the quality of smut here. I feel it's not my best. I'm just glad to finish this because I have other WIPS I can't wait to write on. A special shoutout to cupcake525 for always encouraging my writing, even if I feel it's shitty smut. LMAO

\-------♥-------- 

Of course, I wake up to an empty bed. Typical, I told myself, Spencer Reid is a man, after all. I pushed down my instinct to cry, knowing that I only had a few hours to get ready for Becca's wedding. And it looked like I would be attending ... without my date. I scrambled to shower, curl my hair, and squeeze into my bridesmaid's dress. Just before I glanced at the mirror one last time, my phone rang.

Becca📲: Please tell me you are here. I push the button in the elevator to direct me downstairs, ready to walk down the street.

Me📲: No, sorry. Just leaving my hotel now. Give me thirty minutes. Oh, and I am dateless now. I sniffled a little, the cool air hitting me over every inch of skin that is currently exposed because of the design of the dress.

Becca📲: What?! What happened to Spencer? Oh, Y/N, please, tell me what happened. So, I told her everything that happened once we left her rehearsal dinner last night. That I caved and came clean to him about what Mom had showed me years ago. How I intended for him just to be a filler of sorts, just so I could say that Sid was 'Lucky Number Seven.' The only problem was, now ... I wished I could take it all back. I've not only grown to get to know the mystery that had been Dr. Spencer Reid, but I had, even when I tried my hardest not to, irrevocably fallen in love with him.

Me📲: I love him, Becca. So much, it kills me. I was now at the hotel, trying frantically to make myself appear decent before waltzing in to where Becca was, no doubt. I finally found the Bridal Suite, and knocked on the door. My beautiful sister let me in, engulfing me in the biggest hug she's ever given me since we were kids.

"Y/N, c'mon, we all saw how he is with you, Spencer loves you, too." It hurt a little more, knowing she didn't know she had rubbed that fact into my skin just a little deeper.

"I know! We had a fight about it," I argued. "That's why he's not here. I--I overheard his mom calling him earlier yesterday. I guess, when I woke up to find he was gone, I just assumed he'd left for Vegas. Probably there right now, talking with his mom, believing I don't even so much as exist." All Becca did, that she could do, was hold me until we were told it was time to walk down the aisle.

Her wedding was beautiful. While standing there, I could help but imagine what mine would be like, someday. Only problem is, I still could no longer picture anyone but Spencer being my groom. I really done fucked it up this time. After they were pronounced 'man and wife,' I was pulling my phone out, hiding it under my bouquet.

Me📱: Please talk to me. I'm worried about you. I hit 'send' knowing there was so much more I wished I could say to him, now, in person. The wedding was beautiful. I'm in the reception hall now, at the bar, wishing I could take back what I said last night. I place my phone down, knowing he wasn't going to text me back, let alone even acknowledge my existence anymore. I took a shot to that. I was borderline tipsy when the DJ called for all the 'single' ladies to line up for the traditional bouquet toss. I begrudgingly dragged myself away from the bar, knowing I'd never hear the end of it if Becca and Aunt Liza noticed my absence. I found my spot next to my kinky aunt who was unabashedly sizing up one of Becca's groomsmen.

"Cheers to being single forever," I said, feeling weird without a glass in my hand to clink with. I glanced over at the doorway, immediately having to look again, just to make sure my stupid brain wasn't playing cruel tricks on me. For there he was, in all his disheveled, gorgeous glory. I vaguely heard Becca yell "You girls ready?" but I couldn't care about catching a silly collection of flowers when the man I loved was here. I walked over to him, much like a moth would fly to a flame. Even though the flame might burn me, it doesn't keep me from wanting to be near ... forever. I cleared my throat once I approached him. "Fancy seeing you here," was all I managed to choke out. I heard him chuckle a bit, which only made me melt more. What I would kill to hear his laugh again.

"Dance with me," was all Spencer said, whisking me away towards the dance floor, our bodies closer than ever, my head finding its home in the crook of his neck. I held him with every fiber of my being, blocking out everyone else there, leaving just the two of us, so close, the proximity alone could kill me if I let it, and boy, did I want it to. "Did you---did you mean it?" Spencer asked, his breath fanning the tip of my nose as I moved to get a better look at him.

Which part?" I asked, because I didn't want to confuse him or myself any longer. The way I truly felt about him needed to be seen, to be heard.

"The part where you wish you could take it all back." I stilled, even though my body was still swaying with his, no hesitation necessary. I did say that, but at the same time, the only part I wished to take back was when I confessed that I didn't want him to be number seven. Because, the burning truth was--is--that Spencer Reid has always been the man I wished to end up with ever since the first time I laid my eyes on his over eight years ago.

I shook my head slightly, but before I could open my mouth to spill the confessions my brain was circulating around, Spencer spoke up again, his voice cracking softly. "So, you--you don't take it back, then?" I cleared my throat, dryly, hoping that he couldn't hear the way it cracked when I spoke to answer him.

"I---Spencer, I don't take back anything from this past week with you ... except when I said that I didn't want you to--to be .. lucky seven." I looked up at him, surprised to see that he wasn't making a run for it --- well, at least not without me. I still couldn't say what my heart has known all along, but in that moment, all I cared about was me and him. "Spencer, I--" In an instant, his hands were on my cheeks as he lips pressed against mine. Right there on the dance floor, in front of most of my family, I was kissing the man I would give my entire heart to. Just as I felt him part my lips to dip his tongue inside my mouth, I pulled away, keeping our foreheads touching. Without meeting his eyes, I whispered softly into the air between us. "H-hotel?"

"Ye--yeah, sure, um, meet you outside?" I nodded, trying and failing to contain my giggles as I approached Becca to give her and her new husband a bidding farewell before their honeymoon, so I can follow Spencer back to our hotel room for the night.

"Hey Becs, congratulations, again," I said, giving her the best hug a sister could ask for. "I want you to enjoy yourselves, and don't do anything I wouldn't do." It was a poor joke, but one they booth laughed at nonetheless. It almost helped that I was very tipsy, probably borderline drunk, which, if that were the case, then getting some much needed fresh air is the best thing for me right now.

"Right back at you, Y/N/N," my sister said, giving me her notorious smirk. "I like him for you, you know, the two of you ... you guys just fit." I know Becca didn't mean to, but what she said stirred up a memory of mine with our mother.

-

"Y/N/N, silly, here, give me your hand," Mom said, gently grabbing my marker-colored hand, placing it on the construction paper. My hand looked so small compared to hers.

"Hey, sluggar, what're you doing?" Dad asked, playfully, moving to pull me up in one of his infamous 'big bear hugs.'

"Nothing, sweetheart. I was just telling her what I wished my mother had told me." I watched as my dad moved to hold Mom's hand, fragile as it was. "Y/N/N, when you do meet your special someone, you'll just know...your hands," she said, gesturing with the one that was still gripping my dad's, "they'll simply fit. Perfectly."

-

"Perfectly," I murmured, throwing another smile Becca's way as I raced out the reception hall, hoping Spencer was still right there, waiting for me. His curly mop of hair was blowing wistfully in the light wind, causing his cheeks to pink as his breath became visible to the naked eye. "You waited for me..." I said breathlessly, hoping to convey that I was finally choosing to give in to the eruption of feelings I've kept bottled up for longer than I even realized.

"Think I'm still a nice, respectable partner, or can you finally see me as one of your bad boys?" I giggled at his question, knowing it was probably a little of the alcohol's fault for what came out of my mouth next.

"Hhmmmm, neither." The utterly stunned look on his face shook me into a tiny fit of laughter. Once I calmed down, I eyed him to further explain. "I mean, it's just---this past week has shown me that you, Spencer Reid, are simply perfect .... just for me." He smiled his signature goofy grin, taking my hand as he led us into a taxi. "Why aren't we walking, again?" I got my answer as soon as the door clicked shut and the wheels began to move. 

"Come here," he whispered, taking my lips with his, spelling out his feelings for me with every flick of his tongue against mine. My hands tugged at his curls, my mind only now realizing that neither one of us bothered to wear our seatbelts. When we pulled apart for air, his rested his forehead against mine, our breathing staggered and broken. 

"Spencer..." I spoke softly against his lips, deciding he deserves to know everything. His warm brown eyes found mine, and I couldn't help but melt at the sight. His mouth found my neck, peppering sweet, gentle kisses before carefully biting on that one spot. "Spencer...fuck!--there's so-something I need to tell you." 

"Hhmmm, what is it, baby?" he continued to create himself a path down my collarbone, coming dangerously close to my breasts. For a moment, I blanked on what it was I needed to say. Spencer was beginning to prove he had a way to silence all thoughts in my head, leaving me to completely be consumed by nothing but him. I hummed as he left light bruises along my body, knowing we were almost to our hotel. 

"I--Would you believe me if I told you I've liked you since the first day you walked into the coffee shop?" Spencer stopped kissing my chest, his eyes wandering back up to meet mine. 

"What? Y/N...that was over eight years ago." 

"I know. It's just---I was nowhere near number seven, and I was afraid I'd met--well, my soulmate, for lack of a better word." I swallowed the lump in my throat, knowing I needed to get this out before we made it back to our room. "And, I was also scared that if we dated back then, that I would just end up breaking up with you simply because you weren't number seven." 

"But, I'm still not." 

"What?" That stopped my thoughts right in its tracks. 

"I'm only number six, right. You said so yourself...." Fuck. I felt the mood dying as our taxi pulled up to the hotel. We got out, Spencer paid the driver then escorted me up to our room. I waited until he was swiping the card to set the record straight. 

"Spencer, you--you were actually never number six." Just as the door closed behind us, I was suddenly pinned to it, Spencer locking the door and putting the little chain in place. His face was now just inches from mine, and for the life of me, I couldn't look away from his darkening eyes. Just when I thought he was going to kiss me, he pressed his lips directly to my pulse point and sucked hard. "Fuck! I--Spencer, pleeeasse, I uhh, I can explain." His tongue traveled up to my ear, his hoarse voice sending chills down my spine. 

"I overheard you...the other day on the phone," he stated, clearly not in any hurry to detach his mouth from my skin. "Sid, that's his name, right?" With that, Spencer bit my earlobe, swiping his tongue over it, causing my eyes to flutter shut. I wasn't sure what he was getting at, but I needed to try one more time to confess the truth. 

"I don't fucking care about him right now---fuck!---Spencer...believe me, it--it's always been you." I took in a breath, squeezing my eyes shut even more, hoping I could make it through my words before Spencer fries the last of my brain cells. "I think I've been in love with you since the moment you first asked me where we keep the sugar container." It was really a funny story, one I always gladly relived after every breakup I've gone thru since. 

"I always assumed I was never your type." I grabbed his face, pulling him in for a kiss that was already long overdue. 

"My type is you! I tried really hard not to fall for you, I really did, but---" Spencer was now undoing my dress, revealing my sweetheart set to his hungry eyes. "I--I didn't mean to, but it's just---you're perfect. You agreed to come on a trip with a stranger, meet my unique family, and somehow.... you're still here....with me." 

"I didn't mean to fall in love with you, either, Y/N...but I am." He locked me in another searing kiss, taking his time to reaquaint his tongue with mine. "I'm yours...if you'll have me." I go to kiss him again, but he puts up an index finger to my lips and I have to restrain myself from taking it in and sucking it. "Promise me you love me 'cause I'm ... me, not because I just happen to be lucky number seven." I thought back to that day, again. 

"I love you, Spencer Reid, but if you must know, you would've been number four easily, you know, if I wasn't so superstitious." He moved to finish stripping me of my dress, working on the straps of my bra next. 

"You sure about that?" I felt the vibrations of his voice hum throughout my body. "Truthfully, I'd hope you'd be with me because you simply can't imagine life without me..." Spencer pulls me away from the door, leading me over to his bed. Out of nowhere, he hoists me up, leaving me to lock my ankles around him just before he all but drops me on the mattress. I yelp a little as I land, my giggles ceasing as I take in the sight of Spencer now hovered above me. "I'm curious...would you fake it with me, or can I get you to scream my name for real?" The tone in his voice told me he knew his answer before he ever thought to ask the question. 

I moaned as he created a trail of sloppy pecks and bites from my neck down the valley of my breasts, crying out 'fuck!' as he passed my hip bone. "Oh, I know you can be louder, Y/N..." Spencer breathed out, his mouth stopping just above my sex. I could feel my entire body shift just to be closer to him, really, anything to get even a taste of the friction I strongly craved for. Without even thinking much about it, I blurted out the first thought that came to mind. 

"Well, I'd have no problem screaming if you actually gave me a fucking reason to." 

In only a mere matter of seconds, I was shown just how wrong of a choice that was. Spencer ceased touching me as he crawled off the bed, his hand coming up to undo his tie. I let an audible gulp form in my throat, the tingles in my body leaving me both excited and a little frightened. "You know, as much as I love the sound of your voice ...." he purred, taking the very same tie, bringing it up slowly to my face. "..I think I'll enjoy this even more." With that, the silk fabric tightened over my lips. Spencer's thumb soon followed, pressuring my lips open to allow myself to gag on the material. 

I huffed out through my nose, my eyes catching the way his hands flew to his pants, undoing his belt before me. I mewled at the sight, so sure of my guess as to what he intended to do with it. Spencer glanced over to me, his eyes lit with an intensity I hope never ceases. "Do you have any idea what you did to me...while we were out at brunch?" My painfully aroused state-of-mind was finding it extremely difficult to formulate a thought, let alone work to answer any questions. Almost as if he'd honestly forgotten that he shoved his tie in my mouth, he questioned me one more time. "Did you think you were being cute, huh?" Only muffled cries of truth could be heard from my voice. Sure enough, I felt the leather rub against my exposed skin, his hands coming up to grip mine, holding them in place behind my back as he buckled the belt around my wrists. 

I felt my entire body relax once his touch left me, only to feel it tense up again as I watched Spencer drop his dress slacks to the floor, pulling out his cock from the given hole in his boxers. "See, the thing is, dove, I want you to have a taste of your own medicine." The second my brain comprehended what my ears had heard, I could only remain there on his bed, my mouth gagged and my wrists bound, on my knees with the sight of him for only my eyes to see. Fuck, they mean it when they say that payback's a bitch. 

Spencer began to slowly pump himself with one hand while his other hand played with his balls, the moans and mewels from his mouth seemed rather over exaggerated. But, I guess that was the point. His payback was working perfectly, for everytime my eyes would roam over the veins in his hands, and my ears would hear the sweet curses fall from his lips; my panties became very damp very quick. Behind Spencer was a huge mirror, one I could now see myself in; a pathetic, whimpering mess, my skin checkered out in beautiful bitemarks and bruises I could only hope will never fade. Before I could slink even further inside my own head, Spencer's verbal responses to his own doings brought me back. 

"I want your eyes on me, dove," he panted, a thin layer of sweat now glistening over his forehead where a few strands of curled hair were now matted in place. Just like that, my eyes snapped to meet his entirely of their own accord, while all I could do was whimper at the gorgeous, yet devilish sight before me. I couldn't remember the last time I'd simply stared at a man masturbating in front of me, so blissed out, knowing I was struggling to keep my mewls quiet at the sheer sight before me. At one point, I couldn't tell you which was hotter: seeing Spencer jacking himself off or watching myself in the mirror, tied up and gagged. Just when I thought he was close, Spencer stood up, removing his hand from his cock. 

"I can't take it anymore--need to find out how you taste." Fuck, that was hot. His smooth hands reached around and swiftly unclasped the belt, tossing in to the floor as he gently pushed me backwards onto the pillows. Before I could rub my fingers over my wrists, Spencer grips my thighs, pulling me right up against him. He slides his fingers under the band of my underwear, pulling them towards him, flicking them to the floor to join the rest of my clothes. I watch as he lowers his face towards my heated core, his eyes not once leaving mine. "Think you can stay quiet, dove?" I nod my head all to excitedly, cursing over the tie in my mouth as his teeth latched onto my heat. 

With each swipe of his tongue, and nip of his teeth, Spencer Reid had me, a breathless, moaning mess beneath him, and to say I would die happily here is a definite understatement. I felt every inch of my body light on fire as the man here with me let out gutthroal mewls and groans paired with expletives, edging me for what felt like the tenth time tonight. As he leaned himself up, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he bent down to capture mine in a sloppy kiss, granting me permission to taste myself on him over the tie still in my mouth. As he pulled back he tried to stifle a giggle as his hands reached behind my head, carefully undoing the knot he had tied earlier. The second he pulled the fabric from my mouth, I wiped the spit that had collected there. 

"Much better, dove. I wanna hear you scream my name," Spencer moaned, moving to kiss me some more. "Promise me this is real?" My brain halted at his words. For the life of me, my foggy mind couldn't decipher just what he meant. Not that he gave me much of a reprieve. Within five seconds, I felt his tip slide across my folds, silently asking me if he could continue. Instead of nodding, now that I wasn't gagged, I opted to tell him exactly what I wanted. 

"Spencer, pllleeeaasssee! I need you to fuck me right now!" Again, Spencer reminded me exactly why he's in charge here. Just as I felt his hands roam my mid-section, he gripped my sides hard, flipping me over as I landed haphazardly on my hands and knees in front of him. He laughed darkly, lifting me flush against him, wasting no time sliding himself inside me, stretching me all at once. "Fuuucck, I---Spencer, ohh!" His lips latched onto to my throat while his hand cupped my breasts as he slammed into me. I felt his breath create a path to my ear where he whispered against it, trailing a finger down to rub my clit. 

"You're mine, dove...say it. I wanna hear you fucking scream it!" Hearing the bite in his growl, I felt my orgasm flood through me in waves. I feel Spencer follow my lead shortly thereafter, filling me up as he bottomed out, the only sound either of us could hear was the way I screamed his name at the peak of ecstasy. "Fuuuck, Y/N," Spencer cursed, loosening his grip to allow me to find comfort on his bed, my body still shaking from everything that happened in the past hour. As he softly pulled out, I felt empty all of a sudden. "Don't move, I'll be right back." 

As I slowly moved over on my side, I heard Spencer pad over to the bathroom, turn the faucet on for a few seconds, then came back with a damp washcloth. "Here," he whispered, wiping my body down while refusing to take his eyes off me. My brain suddenly reminded me of what had been said between us tonight. 

"Spencer, I--I meant what I said, about you--about, well, us." He crawled over next to me, pulling the sheets and comforter over us as he spooned me from behind. I felt him kiss my shoulder blade, nestling his face in the crook of my neck, nuzzling against me; and all I could think was Damn, he's the whole fucking package, isn't he? 

"Me too," he whispered, tickling my ear with his hair. After a moment of pure blissful silence, Spencer spoke up again. "So...am I still promised that lifetime supply of free coffee?" I craned my neck around to look over at him, only to be met with the most smug grin I've ever seen on a man I loved. I love him. My Lucky Seven. 

"Take me on a real date when we get back and I just night consider it." 

\-------♥--------

**Author's Note:**

> So, this ended up being over 13k, and I haven't written the smut yet, so I give you Part One (with Part Two coming real soon since it's over halfway written already!)


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